


Fridays

by jyonzu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Inspired by Art, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyonzu/pseuds/jyonzu
Summary: Keith likes Fridays.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [8x8's super nice art](http://8x8-after-dark.tumblr.com/post/151530858067/eight8xeight8-i-dont-know-how-keith-convinced)!!!

Keith likes Fridays.

For all the usual reasons, of course; the euphoria of impending freedom, the anticipation of weekend plans and sleeping in, leaving work early, long lunch breaks taken at the local pizza joint with a beer that the boss doesn't have to know about.

Long lunch breaks that leave their small office empty and quiet.

It's the perfect time for a one-on-one meeting with no interruptions.

Shiro doesn't look up from his laptop when he hears the light knock on his door. "Come in," he calls, taking a sip of now-cooled coffee and tapping a salutation into the empty email he's writing. He doesn't have to look up to know who's sliding into his office, closing the door ever so gently and quietly behind him, so discreet even though there's no one to hear it but Shiro.

"You should take a break," comes the familiar voice. Shiro finally, laboriously, looks away from his screen to Keith, who hasn't moved from the door, arms crossed in front of him. Keith cuts a great figure in business attire, his broad shoulders filling out the top of his dress shirt, the shirt tucked in at his small waist, sleeves rolled up slightly to bare his hard forearms, faint tracks of veins snaking across them.

"I will. Just have to finish this email," Shiro answers with an apologetic half-smile, looking back to his screen. He continues at the keys, typing out _Please advise._ He reads over the email a few times and hits "send." He's finished but he can feel the tension of the other man's presence, and his foot taps quietly. Though this isn't the first time Keith's come to his office for a "one-on-one," it still makes him a little nervous, in an exhilarating way.

A rustling at his window combines with a change in lighting. Shiro looks up to see Keith twisting shut the vertical blinds that allow sunlight into Shiro's average-sized office. Another glance towards the door, and he sees that Keith has already lowered the screens at the windows leading into the office. _Not subtle._ Keith moves fast but gracefully, and before Shiro can turn his head again, a pair of slender hands are draping over his shoulders. He tenses up into Keith's touch, but Keith smoothes his hands over the fabric of Shiro's shirt, gently stroking back and forth, and Shiro finally lets his shoulders drop with a sigh.

"Breathe," Keith murmurs, and begins to squeeze Shiro experimentally. "You work too hard. Everyone else is playing hooky right now."

"Mm. _Somebody's_ gotta work," Shiro grunts. Keith is already starting to dig his thumbs into Shiro's taut muscle here and there, massaging the knots. Shiro lets out another grunt, and Keith focuses his attention on one spot.

"Take a deep breath and let it out," Keith instructs, and Shiro obeys. His sigh turns into a ragged groan of pleasure as Keith presses into his flesh with both thumbs, rubbing deep circular motions into him.

"That. More of that," Shiro says tiredly, letting his head fall forward.

"You got it." Suddenly Keith is in his ear, warm breath sending a shiver into Shiro's belly. He's using his knuckles on one side and thumb on the other now, dragging and kneading and pressing and Shiro signs into it, lets himself moan and groan, doesn't know where the _yes_ ends and the _right there_ begins - he's relaxing, tensing, releasing, just utterly _melting_ under Keith's touch -

Keith nuzzles and nibbles at his neck and Shiro remembers that he knows exactly where this is going. He takes in a sharp breath as Keith bites down on his earlobe softly.

"You always smell so good," Keith says, in the low, husky voice that Shiro wishes he had the power to resist. He takes a deep inhale of Shiro's hair, indeed still smelling amazing from his post-morning-workout shower. "Can I try something?" he murmurs, so soft that even if there was someone in the room, they wouldn't have heard it. He continues kneading Shiro's shoulders generously. Shiro tips his head back onto Keith's shoulder.

"Something like what?" he replies. Keith smells like Keith; hair and skin and fabric and just, human.

Keith slides his hand up to grasp Shiro's chin, holding him in place as he drags his teeth over Shiro's throat.

"I want to bend you over this desk and eat your ass," he says, right into Shiro's ear.

Shiro short circuits a little bit.

Before he can even register the groan that leaves his lungs and the heat creeping onto his face, Keith is already leaning on him, making him dip forward, the undulating grip on his shoulders still turning Shiro to putty, still licking and nibbling along the shell of his ear, draping his weight over Shiro's back.

"I take that as a yes?" Keith breathes, running his hands from Shiro's shoulders down to his waist, fingertips brushing his leather belt. Shiro is already on his third "yes," face pressed into the keys of his laptop - a barrage of alert sounds suddenly breaks the silence as Shiro's cheek somehow types "45ffdggffgggggggggg." Keith giggles and closes the laptop with a snap, sliding it back.

"Stand up, let me borrow your chair," Keith says, squeezing Shiro's now-relaxed muscles briskly to signify that massage time is over. Shiro complies, and Keith slips in between Shiro and the chair, one that he requested specifically after his most recent promotion. "C'mere first, though," he says, hands at Shiro's waist, coaxing him to turn.

Even with newfound familiarity after a few Fridays spent this way, Shiro still hasn't gotten over how _fast_ and _intense_ Keith is. Try as Shiro might to retain some control, it's so easy to get swept up in him - it's barely been over five minutes since Keith entered Shiro's office and Shiro is already dizzy, flushed, tingling at his touch. One hand is at the back of Shiro's neck, the other at his waist, pulling their bodies together as Keith claims his mouth in a soft, yet electric kiss. He sucks on Shiro's lips, letting his tongue flick out briefly to tease before tilting his head, deepening the kiss more, and rocking his hips forward in time with their tongues rolling together.

Shiro's mind is hazy, awash with heat and Keith and the pleasurable slide where their hips meet, both of them quite fully hard and straining at their dress pants. Before Shiro can even suggest it, he hears the click of his own belt and feels Keith's teeth snag on his lower lip, shuddering. _So fast._ The buckle comes undone and Keith's hands are diving under his waistband, one palm sliding down his cock, fingertips brushing his sac and then moving up to wrap around the head and squeeze. The other hand glides up his back under his shirt, then moves lower to grasp his ass. Shiro moans into Keith's mouth, and the shorter man's lips spread into a smile.

"Okay," Keith says, unable to pull himself away entirely, punctuating his words with hungry kisses and squeezes. "Can I? You ready?"

"Are you... sure?" Shiro manages, his throat tight, brain focusing very much on things besides language at the moment.

Keith chuckles, both hands groping Shiro's ass now, pressing his clothed pelvis flush against Shiro's naked erection. There's a slight, delicious scrape of sensitive skin against Keith's belt that makes Shiro hiss and let out a small "ah" sound. Keith raises an eyebrow. "Are you? I've been thinking about this all week, so."

Shiro dips his head down into Keith's neck. "God, what am I gonna do with you," he mumbles, savoring the warmth of Keith's skin against his lips. Keith runs his fingers through the short hair at Shiro's nape.

"I've got a list going," Keith whispers, nibbles at his ear again. Shiro can hear a tremor in his breathing that betrays his arousal. He's definitely been anticipating this. "Now turn around, beautiful." Shiro pulls back to look at Keith, taking in his hungry eyes, slanted smile, the way he bites his lip softly, and turns around.

Keith pushes Shiro's shirt up with a gentle hand, the other at his hip, while easing his upper body down onto the desk. He tugs Shiro's pants and boxer briefs down roughly and pumps Shiro's sizeable erection a few times, and covers him with gentle touches, running his hands up and down Shiro's back, rubbing circles at his hips, letting his thumbs trace the round shape of Shiro's ass, and finally settling into the chair.

"Damn, this is comfortable. I've sat in it before, but damn," Keith muses. Shiro can't see him anymore, and can only sense his movements through his hands and voice and breath. Having no idea how Keith is going to touch him next makes his heart flutter. Sure enough, Keith's gentle stroking is turning more intense, and he's squeezing, shaking, spreading Shiro open more. One of Keith's hands disappears while the other moves down to cradle Shiro's balls, and Shiro moans, fists clenching. When they fool around, Keith is always, always escalating but nothing ever feels forced, rushed or unnecessary, just utterly intoxicating. Shiro hears crinkling plastic and turns to look back, but again Keith is ahead of him, already stepping out of the chair for a moment and bending over alongside Shiro, grabbing his chin and kissing him heavily. Shiro feels the cold, wet feeling of a wipe and then it's gone, and Keith is sliding back into the chair, both hands on Shiro's rear again.

Keith lets out a somewhat giddy little noise and gets right to squeezing and spreading Shiro apart over and over. "You," he growls, "have a great ass. God." He flicks his tongue out here and there, without getting to the good stuff just yet. Always so quick, intense, and exacting until he isn't, and then he's teasing Shiro relentlessly with touches just outside of his reach.

Keith nibbles closer and closer to Shiro's hole and then finally, finally laps at it, eliciting a shaking sigh of relief from Shiro as he swings his hips back towards Keith's face. "Spread your legs a little bit," Keith murmurs, and Shiro hazily thinks he would be happy to have Keith ordering him around a lot more often. He slides his feet further apart and the act of obeying and exposing himself - among other things about what they were doing and where - sends a rush of euphoria through him, muscles alive, blood hot and cock twitching.

Although Keith likes to tease at first on most occasions, it's never for long. He circles Shiro's pucker, then presses his tongue flat against it, letting the wetness spread, lapping at it quickly. Then he's kissing, sucking at the sensitive skin as he kneads Shiro's ass, his motions growing faster and more aggressive. He moves down to lick at Shiro's perineum as Shiro lets out breathy moans, shuddering sighs, clipped words, parts of Keith's name. Shiro's fists clench, wrinkling some papers on his desk which he hastily slides out of reach.

Shiro has a brief, lucid moment where he remembers he was writing an email about a missing invoice just a few minutes earlier, and now he's getting tongue-fucked in his office, violating about a dozen company policies but it doesn't matter because Keith can make his thighs shake. He thinks he is probably going to need Keith's dick at some point, as he buries his face in his arms, holding in a whine.

A soft metallic noise combined with the absence of Keith's hands tells Shiro that Keith is undoing his belt to free his cock. Shiro's seen it (and then some) before; he doesn't have to look to know that it's surprisingly big for someone on the shorter side. Shiro can tell the other man is touching himself when Keith moans into his skin, vibrations making his own cock jump. Keith keeps burying his face deeper, tongue tensing and pressing until it starts to move past the threshold and inside Shiro. He's truly relentless, never pausing, constantly giving Shiro more and more, and he seems to be enjoying himself immensely too. Shiro can tell from the telltale shaky breaths he takes between loud kisses and jabs of his firm tongue, not to mention the occasional pleased hum. Still letting out lovely little sounds as Keith's mouth works its magic, Shiro feels two fingers brush at his lips. Without hesitation, he licks and accepts them, moving his head to accommodate the length of Keith's fingers while Keith continues to fuck and soften him with that tongue. The fingers disappear, and Shiro feels one press at his entrance, easily sliding inside and pumping in and out before being joined by another. Shiro raises his ass wantonly and lets out a ragged moan.

"Fuck, Keith," he whines. "Will you fuck me?"

As the words leave his lips, Keith happens to also be asking "Can I fuck you?"

Keith pauses, chuckling, and Shiro blushes, burying his face in his forearms again. "Great minds think alike," Keith purrs, biting at Shiro's butt while he resumes fingering him. Shiro hears Keith place something on the desk, and looks over to see a condom and a tiny bottle of lube. _Just how prepared is Keith when he comes to work these days?_! Shiro can't complain though, as Keith's free hand eases Shiro's cock down between his legs so he can lick along the underside and back up to join his fingers, now three working inside Shiro to stretch him nicely.

Keith presses the condom into Shiro's hand. "Open this for me, will you, beautiful?"

As Shiro's trembling hands tear open the wrapper, he hears the snap of the lube bottle's cap and feels Keith's tongue replace his fingers as he warms some lube on them. Then they're back, but they're moving at different speeds and directions, tongue and two fingers fucking into Shiro erratically, pushing lube inside him and spreading it around his hole. He muffles a long moan into the crook of one elbow.

Keith picks up the condom; silence falls as he takes it out of the wrapper and rolls it on, smoothing on more lube. Shiro breathes in and out, attempting to collect himself, raising his head a bit to look back at Keith.

"Happy Friday," Shiro says. Keith doesn't chuckle but outright laughs, a loud, quick, joyful noise (Shiro thinks it might be the first time he's heard Keith laugh like that), and grinning, presses the head of his sheathed cock against Shiro, who bites his lip. "Happy Friday," he replies, and pushes inside.

Shiro breathes into it, and Keith's hips tremble, resisting the urge to slam forward all at once. Something stirs in Shiro as he's stretched and filled with Keith, yet the feeling is ill-defined, like looking through a fogged-up window. Keith pulls out slightly, then wiggles in and out while seated deep inside Shiro, grinding his hips against Shiro's nice round ass, letting out a breathy noise. When Keith starts to really fuck him, Shiro feels his whole body relax to force a heavy moan from his lungs. It hits him: he's _needed_ this.

This week has been frustrating, with an IT update that left parts of the server non-functioning, and then an unrelated power outage during a thunderstorm that lost them a good deal of productivity again about two days later. People also tend to come to Shiro with their problems and questions, relevant or otherwise, and Shiro has a habit of making up for other people's mistakes. Shiro is always being counted on by others and it feels _so fucking good_ to give it up, to bend over for Keith, to angle his ass to let Keith in deeper, to groan _fuck yeah, right there, fuck me-_

"Oh, you like that?" Keith pants, his thrusts coming in fast and smooth now, making the desk rattle a bit. " _Yes,_ " Shiro sighs in return.

"You like when I fuck you in your office, boss man?" Keith persists. " _Yes, sir,_ " Shiro replies with a moan.

"Good."

For a moment they simply savor every feeling, Keith fucking Shiro urgently but not too rough, changing rhythm here and there, little grunts and breathy moans filling the air. Keith strokes Shiro's lower back with one hand, then brings it down on Shiro's left ass cheek, hard. Shiro bites his lip through the noise he makes, so it comes out like "nnnnnfffuck." He rises up on his elbows, arching his back and pushing his hips back to meet each thrust. That unlocks something inside Shiro; even though he isn't about to climax, he feels bliss and elation radiating from his pelvis, deep inside, and tries not to cry out too loud. Keith hums, a hungry sound, and grips into Shiro's hips, fingertips digging deep enough to bruise.

Their pace grows intense, and it isn't long before Keith is keening and gasping, "Fuck, Shiro, I can't last much--"

"Don't last, just come in me. Fuck me good and come," Shiro interrupts, and Keith obliges, letting out a held breath. The desk rattles so hard that pens and pencils are flying; Shiro places a hand on the desk lamp so it doesn't fall over. He feels wild, letting Keith take him and use him - in his place of work, even. It feels dangerous and wrong and good and relaxing all at once, perfect after a hard week and delicious before an open weekend. Shiro thinks about maybe seeing Keith on the weekend. Maybe they can get together and take their time for a change.

Then Keith is suddenly slamming his hips home and holding them there, groaning into his last few thrusts as he's taken away by orgasm. The feeling of his cock throbbing over and over inside Shiro is too much-- "Keith, it's so..." Shiro trails off as he reaches down to his own cock, but he's tense about potentially making a mess in his own office. For once, Keith isn't ahead of him and caressing him, but rather still recovering from the daze of climax.

"Tissue," Shiro says urgently, reaching out but realizing the box that had previously been on his desk was now on the floor. Keith is awake again, dick still inside Shiro. "Use my mouth," he says, voice breaking a bit.

"Are-"

"Shut up and turn around," Keith growls, pulling out. There's the little thrill again, the elated, loose feeling Shiro gets when Keith is giving him orders. He straightens and turns, hands supporting himself on the desk. He strokes himself quickly while Keith positions his open mouth, pink and wet and inviting, at the head of Shiro's cock. Little whispers of encouragement cause Keith's lips to bump and brush against him, and in no time at all the blood is pounding in his ears as he comes onto Keith's tongue. He's still reeling as Keith wipes some misplaced spunk from his chin and sucks it off his thumb, and then swirls his tongue and lips around Shiro's sensitive cock a few times for good measure. He licks his lips and smiles up at Shiro, who is trembling and panting, one hand over his face.

Shiro lets out a deep sigh.

"I think I needed that."

Keith smiles even wider and bites his lip.

"Glad I could help."

Keith hands Shiro the wipes. "I'm gonna go brush my teeth," he says, pulling off the condom and locating the tissue box somewhere on the floor so he can wrap it up discreetly. He places the box on Shiro's disheveled desk and re-tucks his shirt, buckles his belt.

"Then, want to grab a quick lunch?" Keith asks at the doorway.

"I think I can swing that," Shiro says, absolutely beaming.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes a good fuck is the best stress relief...
> 
> thanks for reading! ( ˘ ³˘)♥
> 
> edit: if you enjoy bottom shiro, check out my other fic called Interlude :)


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